Dropping in
by wayofthepen
Summary: Working in Seireitei, with hollows, destructive kido, and any number of mundane hazards being flung about, inevitably somebody's going to need a place to crash when their house gets blown to bits. Wisely, Central 46 does not get involved in these matters under any circumstances and lets the officers sort things out among themselves. Less trouble that way. Usually.


It is inevitable that a shinigami's duties lead them into conflict. Naturally, it is equally inevitable that even Seireitei itself might be damaged in the course of a battle. In any event, it would be up to the sub-divisions of 4th squad to handle rebuilding. Although they work tirelessly and without (loudly) voicing complaint, they cannot work miracles, and are forced to prioritize the function of Seireitei over an individual's comfort. No matter his rank or station.

This leaves it up to the officers involved to figure out where they were supposed to sleep when their house gets blown up for the tenth time.

* * *

Unohana Retsu was…indefinable. Oh, many had tried to label her, and a few had been inspired to capture her nature in poetry. But no matter how flowery the language or simplistic the term, nothing ever came quite close enough to fully define the captain of the 4th squad.

One phrase, along with many variants often bandied about was, 'infinitely patient.'

With a crash and a grunt, Zaraki Kenpachi stepped into her home.

Another was 'you don't screw with her. EVER.'

Bells chimed as the massive captain of the 11th squad bowed his head and thanked her, with almost enough gruff in his voice to make him sound insincere, for her hospitality. Behind him, Ikkaku and Yumichika made the same gesture, almost hidden behind their captain's broad frame, and Yachiru offered thanks in her own childish way.

The two captains might not have had much in common, but their relationship – one squad constantly getting beaten down, the other patching them up, did make for some strange conversation. The biggest disruption of the evening was when Isane had to rush outside for some fresh air before she started hyperventilating. The guests from 11th squad had been sitting still and talking quietly and being polite for hours.

It was freaking her out.

* * *

Renji was fidgeting. Realistically, he knew he had no reason to. He'd had dinner with his captain lots of times. Renji knew his captain's home almost as well as his own, except, of course, for the more personal areas which business never brought him to or etiquette forbade.

Of course, Byakuya's house was a pile of rubble right now.

And that's why Renji, Rukia, and her brother were sitting in a room that was slightly dusty, slightly dirty, and not-so-slightly reeking of stale sake. Across a low table, his captain, immaculate, ate his dinner quietly. He only spoke in response to Rukia's polite conversation. Rukia, who'd partied with the best of them on occasion, was a completely different person under the unwritten societal rules that the head of the Kuchiki family had brought with him when he'd walked in the door.

Renji had seen her act this way at formal occasions, but never in a room where drinking contests were considered a 'formal occasion.'

It was all agonizingly quiet and polite and structured and Renji thought he was going to go mad long before the point in time that he could excuse himself without committing an unforgivable gaff in the process. It was a minor miracle that he lasted throughout the meal, managing to make polite conversation and even getting a few words out of his captain without getting a sense of irritated disapproval as a result.

When the time to sleep, Renji had naturally offered his room for Rukia to sleep in. Of course, he'd been intending to sleep on the couch from the beginning, but any who overheard might have experienced some confusion due to the informal way he'd said it.

The sound of a zanpakutou being drawn from the room Byakuya was staying in was _certainly_ just his imagination.

* * *

Hitsugaya wasn't very keen on company. Everyone knew it, and that was the reason the other officers had looked elsewhere for places to stay. There was plenty of time to be sociable when on duty. A home was a place of sanctity and repose, away from the bustle and the noise of Seireitei, and that was the way he preferred it. So it was an immense surprise to see Matsumoto bouncing past the doorway to his study, trailing the kind of essential luggage that only a woman would need three suitcases to carry.

"But Taiiichooooou!"

It was only a little hole in the wall, but Matsumoto had insisted she wouldn't be able to sleep in a damaged house. And besides, Captain's homes were so big and spacious and nice and it's not like anyone else had inquired about using the guest rooms, hmmm? He wouldn't even notice she was here! Oh, he'd noticed. He had to take care not to trip over the laundry flung everywhere. He noticed being locked out of his own bathroom. He noticed the handful of lower-ranked shinigami trying to peep on Matsumoto.

"What do you think about this one?"

And he did his very best to not notice Matsumoto walking around his house in her underwear.

He tried.

Very hard.

* * *

There were many legends regarding magical animals. Komamura would know, as he'd inspired a few of them. One or two mentioned him by name.

Even after being unmasked, sharing a home with someone else, even a trusted ally, was something he wasn't quite ready for. It would just be too awkward. His own home was designed specifically to his preferences, externally ordinary but relying on the discretion of the 4th squad workers to keep the interior designs a secret. There were some things he'd rather not share.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept under the stars, though it was a strangely comfortable feeling that reached back to the days living as a two-tailed fox of flesh and blood. As sleep continued to escape him, the feeling became too strong to ignore.

Away went the boots, the Captain's coat, the dressing of civilization. Thoughts of identity and culture were pushed away, the world seen again through scent and instinct.

Free of worldly concerns for just a single night, a two-tailed fox slept peacefully beneath the stars.

* * *

A wayward cero had reduced Kurotsuchi's home to a rubble-filled crater.

Good riddance.

Oh, they'd rebuild it. They always did. Not that he ever used it unless he had to. As much as it had amused him the first few times, visiting dignitaries couldn't stand to take tea and discuss reports among turning gears and specimen jars. His 'superiors' had become upset at this behavior, and that meant they paid him more attention. So he kept the house clean and answered guests there and followed all the silly little rules and rituals of society that were so utterly transparent to him.

In time, he'd learned how to follow those worthless practices at the absolute minimum to keep political attention at an acceptable level. Mastering sociology and creating a new system of equations to represent it had made for an interesting diversion, he had to admit. Still watching the current experiment come to a boil, Kurotsuchi reached without looking and began tapping on a keyboard, opening a new file and a new project.

He didn't have much interest in such fields, but still, the potential applications…

* * *

_Let's see...that's Unohana, Renji, Hitsugaya, Komamura, and Kurotsuchi. And guests._

_If I'm struck with additional inspiration, I might add a few more._


End file.
